


I’d Rather Face the Borg

by Byrcca



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Just Another Day in the Delta Quadrant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-18
Updated: 2018-03-18
Packaged: 2019-04-04 05:01:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14012739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Byrcca/pseuds/Byrcca
Summary: Tom Paris didn’t learn about this in the Academy. Luckily, he’s a quick study.





	I’d Rather Face the Borg

**Author's Note:**

> Set a few months after Basics. This is the second story I’ve written after a fifteenish year break.

***

Tom Paris strode purposefully along the corridor, a man on a mission. He didn’t bounce, exactly, but there was a definite spring in his step. Anticipation. Unexplained happiness. He was in a good mood! It was going to be a good day, he could tell. He smiled at Chapman, nodded at Sue Nicoletti, Ensign Vorik and whoever that other guy was, filing away a thought that after more than a year marooned in the Delta quadrant he really should learn everyone’s name. He’d chatted and shared a drink or a game of pool in Sandrine’s with just about everyone, no formal introduction required. And, of course, by this point, it would be awkward to ask for a name, especially since everyone seemed to know his.

The doors to the mess hall opened as he approached, and he sailed through, breaking his stride when the smell hit him. Though he couldn’t see it, the acrid scent of smoke hung in the air, and steam billowed from two large cooking pots on the burners. Flames licked up the sides of one pot a little higher than Tom thought prudent. 

“Hey, Neelix,” he called, bracing his hands on the doorway and poking his head through the opening, “what’s for breakfast?” 

“Oh! Tom! Good. What a relief. Here, take her for a moment.” 

Tom recoiled as Neelix thrust the infant toward him. He instinctively drew his hands to his sides. “Uh, what?”

“Naomi,” Neelix clarified. “Take her.”

Tom puffed out a laugh and took a step backwards, palms raised as barricade. “I’m not really the babysitter type, Neelix,” he joked. “I like my women a little older.” A lot older, actually. Just as Neelix opened his mouth to reply, a pot lid started to bounce as the liquid inside boiled over. He thrust the baby into Tom’s hands and whirled toward the cooking burners. 

“It’s been a madhouse in here all morning!” Neelix informed him. “I burned the hafsa porridge,” he sniffed the air, “as you can probably tell, and the nedgee seems to have gone off so I had to improvise. I sent crewman Jarvis to the airponics bay for some kamboodle leaves but she’s not back yet. I hope the vines didn’t get her. I told Kes she should tie them down. Plus, it’s Ensign Trumari’s birthday and the splect refuses to jell.” 

Splect? Tom followed him into the kitchen, baby held aloft and dangling from his outstretched arms. He glanced at the bowl of greenish-brownish lumpy liquid on the counter and looked away quickly. The term ‘small mercies’ flitted through his mind. 

“Ah, yeah. That sounds like rough morning, but I’m not really good with babies, Neelix. Can’t somebody else...?” He motioned toward the dining hall with a shrug of his shoulder. 

“There IS no one else!” Neelix insisted, his voice rising. 

No one? There were a hundred and fifty people on board Voyager, give or take, and there was no one else who could babysit? Tom turned, following Neelix as he darted to the cooler. “Yeah, but—”

“They’re all either asleep or still on duty. Just, go sit with her. She’s been fed.” Not the porridge I hope, Tom thought. “And she’s not wet, she’s just been changed. She’s really quite a happy baby.”

“I don’t really know what to do—”

“Just hold her!” 

Neelix gave him a gentle shove toward the dining area, and Tom found himself staring into the baby’s big blue eyes as he walked toward a free table. “Hi,” he said. Naomi contracted her tiny body, then flung her arms and legs outward, bouncing between his hands. “Aaa-pah!” she exclaimed.

He tightened his grip on her ribs. “No kidding,” Tom replied. “I’ll be sure to include that in my report.” He glanced over her head and surveyed the room. Harry and B’Elanna were at a far table under the viewport, heads together, bent over a padd. There was cluster of engineers to his right, another of security officers dead ahead. A sea of black and gold. Chakotay entered from the far door, and Tom turned to watch as the XO went up to the galley counter and poured himself a cup of tea from a thermos. Chakotay turned toward the room, nodded an acknowledgment at Tom, and headed toward the table occupied by Harry and B’Elanna. 

“Puh!” Naomi declared. 

“You said it,” he agreed.

She pursed her lips and blew, and spit bubbles erupted from her mouth and dribbled down her chin. “Bbbbuuuuu-pah!” Tom watched a long line of viscous drool dangle from her lip, its thin anchor thread slowly stretching, glinting silver under the messhall lights, until it snapped and the drop of baby spit plunged toward the floor. It hit the toe of his boot with an audible splat. 

“Hi, Tom.” Megan Delaney touched his shoulder in greeting, then waggled her fingers at Naomi as she brushed past him. “Bye-bye. Bye.” Her sister, Jenny, puffed up her cheeks, rounded her eyes and blew a loud kiss at the baby. Naomi squealed in reply, wiggling and bouncing between his hands. “She has your eyes, Tom,” Meagan teased. “And your scintillating conversation,” Jenny added. 

“Umm,” he said, as they headed for the door.

The room was starting to empty out, alpha shift heading to their stations, beta shift heading to bed. The cluster? pod? clutch? of engineers had broken up and were heading to Jefferies tubes unknown. Tom glanced toward the kitchen but Neelix had disappeared. Naomi wiggled again, kicking her legs up. “Okay. Maybe we should sit down before I drop you.” Truthfully, though she weighed less than ten kilos, his biceps were starting to ache. Tom tried to remember what he knew about babies. It wasn’t much. He was the youngest in his family, and most of his cousins were older than him. He couldn’t remember ever having held a baby before. Don’t drop the baby, that was the main thing. And something about the head. Support the head! But she seemed to be able to do that on her own. Whew. 

He sat, placing her rump gently on the tabletop, chubby legs dangling toward his lap, and stared at her. Big—huge—blue eyes, downy-soft gold fluff on the top of her head. Round cheeks and a very wet, very ‘drooly’ pink mouth, lips smacking and spit spraying as she examined her knees. “Pah pah paahh.” 

“Is that a new word or just your favourite?” She had a line of forehead spikes, more nubs really, from brow to hairline. You’d think that would hurt, he mused, imagining giving birth to a horned baby. He reached up and brushed a bump with a finger. It was soft, malleabile. Which made sense, he figured. She looked up at him and grinned, pink tongue pushing out between her lips. She grabbed his thumb brought it to her mouth and started gumming it. “Hey, aren’t you supposed to suck your own thum-aaaiiieee!” Teeth! She had razor sharp teeth! 

A few people turned their heads in his direction, including Harry. Tom smiled and shrugged. What can ya do? Naomi laughed. He leaned in and smiled back. This wasn’t so hard. He just had to be wary. Naomi extended her chubby arms and flung herself toward him, her teeny-tiny fingers grasping his nose and squeezing, her fingernails like teeny-tiny scimitars digging into his flesh. His head shot up and away, and he yelped, his eyes watering and nose stinging. He caught B’Elanna’s curious glance just before the mess doors closed on her and Chakotay. 

He pulled the baby off the table and settled her on his lap. She was warm, and solid, and though she may not have been ‘wet’ she was...damp. And bouncy. If you could harness her energy it could power the warp core. “So, whaddya know about anodyne relays and warp dynamics?” He waited for a reply but she was busy chewing on her fingers and drooling on his leg. She took her fist out of her mouth and patted his uniform-clad arm, leaving beads of spit along the edge of the cuff. Bleh. Careful not to let go of her chest, he twisted his arm and rubbed it along her knee trying to dry it, but only succeeded in smearing the spit onto his wrist. His lip curled. Naomi shrieked with joy. 

He debated talking to Chakotay about adding ‘babysitter’ when he made up the duty roster. Then again, maybe not. He wouldn’t put it past him to assign him a couple of shifts just for laughs. Harry strolled over to the table, leaned down, and poked a finger in Naomi’s belly. “Hey, Tom, new girlfriend? She’s a little young for you, isn’t she?”

“Ha, ha, Harry. Neelix has disappeared, and I don’t know where Sam is, and apparently I’m the only person in the Delta quadrant who can be trusted with babysitting duty.” 

“Well, don’t forget about your bridge duty.” He straightened and turned toward the door. 

“Hey,” Tom stopped him. “What were you and B’Elanna working on?”

“Come to the senior staff meeting and find out,” Harry quipped as he walked away.

As quickly as it emptied, the messhall started to fill again with gamma shift. Which meant that Tom would be late if he didn’t get a move on. He glanced around the room full of familiar strangers, trying to decide who looked trustworthy enough to care for a baby. “Pah,” Tom said. 

“Puh,” Naomi replied. 

“Now you tell me.”

“Captain Janeway to Lieutenant Paris.” 

Was it his imagination or had she put an emphasis on ‘captain’? “Paris here, Captain.” 

“Mister Paris, I hear you’ve abandoned your ship’s duties for the arms of a beautiful young woman.” 

Tom could hear a muted chuckle in the background. “What can I say, Captain, she’s crazy about me.” Naomi squealed, high and sharp, and grabbed at his combage. Tom caught her hand and grinned at her. 

“The senior staff meeting started five minutes ago, Mister Paris, and the briefing room seems so empty without you. Tell me, Tom, how much longer were you planning on keeping us waiting?”

“Sorry, ma’am, I’ll be right up. Paris out.” 

He glanced toward the kitchen but before he could scan for Neelix a mug of coffee was placed on the table beside him. Ayala appeared at his shoulder. 

“I’ll take her.”

The large man held his hands out toward the baby, and Tom watched his face soften, his body relax, as he looked at the little girl and smiled. Tom stood, hugging Naomi to his chest, and didn’t quite want to hand her over. “Sure,” he said. “Thanks. She’s been fed,” Tom offered, “and she was just changed.” 

The lieutenant ignored him, focusing instead on the baby. Tom saw her eyes widen, her mouth go round as Ayala plucked her from his arms. “Hi, baby,” he said quietly. “Want to go look at the stars?” She reached for his nose and he deftly caught her hand and brought it to his lips, dropping a quick kiss on her fingers. He settled her against his side, arm curled around her pudgy little body, her leg firmly grasped in his palm. He scooped up his mug of coffee with his free hand and headed toward the viewport at the back of the mess. He made it look easy. Artless. 

Tom felt a bit bereft, slightly damp, physically abused, and hungry. He realized he hadn’t had his own morning coffee, or his breakfast for that matter. And now there was no time because he was— 

“Chakotay to Paris.” 

Tom slapped his combadge. “Almost there, Commander.” He smiled. It was going to be a good day. 

***

**Author's Note:**

> This was just a vehicle to get to Ayala with the baby at the end. That scene came to me after tag-teaming a grumpy dude and an oblivious couple with a gorgeous baby through a grocery store and the parking lot.


End file.
